The sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in dim oranges and purples. The distant sirens he’d heard earlier had quieted, but he still felt restless.

  As he got closer to an exit, Nyx cawed once, sharp and urgent. Leon’s new Danger Rating kicked in before he even processed the sound.

  A figure stepped out from the shadowed side of one of the park’s maintenance shed, maybe thirty yards away. Male, mid-twenties, hoodie up, hands in pockets.

  Moderate

  Not lethal. Not even Dangerous. Just… Moderate. If the version of him from before the gacha rewards was in his pce, he knew it would’ve at least been Dangerous instead.

  The guy was walking straight toward him in a way that looked casual but was actually purposeful. No visible weapons, but the posture screamed “I’m looking for trouble.”

  Behind him, half-hidden by the shed, Leon spotted a second shape. Smaller, twitchier.

  Moderate

  Two on one. Not ideal for his first dangerous encounter, but not world-ending.

  Still… How unlucky am I that I’m about to get mugged not even an hour after arriving in this world?

  Leon’s heart picked up, but it wasn’t only because of fear. New instincts from his Kure side now whispered different possibilities. Violent possibilities.

  His legs tensed in anticipation. He was already trying to read their approach angles even though they weren’t close enough for real prediction yet.

  The first guy stopped about six feet away, pulling his hood back just enough to show a scarred cheek and a crooked grin. He had the kind of face that looked like it had lost more fights than it won.

  “Hey, man,” he said, voice rough. “Nice crow. You lost or something? Parks ain’t safe after dark.”

  Leon kept his hands loose at his sides. “Just… passing through.”

  “Yeah? You look like you got stuff worth passing through for.” The guy’s eyes flicked to Leon’s hoodie pockets, then back up. “Wallet. Phone. Hand ‘em over nice and slow, and maybe we don’t have to get messy.”

  The second guy stepped out now. He was younger, jittery, holding what looked like a cheap switchbde half-concealed against his thigh.

  Leon felt Fight Mode humming in the back of his mind, ready to flip the switch. Beside it, Removal waited like a loaded gun. But he didn’t need to go full berserk yet.

  He smiled. It was small, almost polite. If he was honest, he felt confident about beating these two.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  The first guy ughed, short and mocking. “You think you’re funny? Last guy who talked back got his teeth cracked on the sidewalk.”

  Leon tilted his head toward the sky. Nyx was still circling, high and silent.

  “Man, I don’t really know what to say to that,” he whispered. “This is my first time being mugged.”

  What he did know was that the more he protested, the more it goaded them to attack. That way, if anyone nearby was watching and was calling the cops, they’d at least know he wasn’t the one to make the first move.

  “Walk away, and you’ll get out of this without a scratch. But if you want to be taught a lesson, I’ll oblige.” Leon switched to a mocking tone and smirk. “Doesn’t look like your parents did a good job, anyway. Just look at your face. Oof! Not even pstic surgery could fix that kinda damage.”

  “You think you’re hot shit?” Looking at his accomplice, scar-face nudged his head at Leon. “Get this sunovabitch!”

  The knife guy lunged. The sloppy, overconfident bde fshed toward Leon’s stomach.

  Leon’s body moved before his brain fully caught up.

  His legs propelled him half a step sideways in one smooth motion, faster than he’d ever moved. He saw the ghost-image of the thrust’s path a split-second early, so he twisted, let the bde slice air, then drove his knee up hard into the younger man’s gut.

  The impact was louder than he expected. The knife guy folded with a choked wheeze, dropping the bde and clutching his stomach as he hit the grass.

  The scarred guy blinked, then snarled and charged, swinging a wild, telegraphed haymaker.

  Bad choice.

  Leon ducked under it after seeing it coming a mile away, and countered with a tight hook to the ribs. Bone cracked, the sound audible. The guy staggered, gasping as he held his torso.

  Leon didn’t stop. He stepped in, grabbed the guy’s colr with one hand, pulled, and drove an elbow into his jaw. The impact rang up his arm, satisfying and solid as the thug dropped like a sack of wet cement.

  Both were down. Breathing, groaning, but down.

  Leon stepped back to admire his work before a notification chimed softly in his vision.

  [You have defeated two low-level street criminals. Reward: 25 Gacha Points.]

  [Feat Achieved! Win a two versus one fight against an armed opponent while you yourself are unarmed and untouched. Reward: 250 Gacha Points.]

  [Total Gacha Points: 276]

  Leon exhaled, shaking out his hands. His knuckles weren’t even red from the hits he gave.

  Nyx nded on his shoulder, cawing once. She looked smug.

  “Yeah,” Leon muttered, gncing at the groaning pile of would-be muggers. “I guess that works.”

  He crouched next to the scarred guy, tempted for half a second to call the cops. But he had no ID, no address, no expnation for why a random high-school kid just folded two armed adults like paper.

  One wrong question and he’d be in a holding cell—or worse, fgged by whatever passed for intelligence agencies in this world. Though the tter was him probably being paranoid for no reason.

  Still. Can’t risk exposing myself just yet.

  “Next time,” Leon said, his voice mellow as he gazed into the man’s eyes, “I won’t let you two off without at least breaking an arm and a leg.”

  If it had been a normal civilian in his pce, they could have lost their life, or worse. He hoped the injuries he made would make them reluctant to repeat this.

  He stood, dusted off his hoodie, and started walking to the park exit. But he stopped and walked back after a moment of thought. The switchbde could be useful. Their money, too.

  Bending down, he picked up the bde before rummaging through their wallets for their money. They protested, but a look from him shut them up.

  Leon felt dirty, but his desire for survival trumped his guilt.

  Nyx took flight again, scouting ahead.

  Two hundred and seventy-five points for that small fight. Not enough for much, but it was a start.

  This fight was also proof he wasn’t helpless. Not against normal, untrained street thugs with knives, anyway.

  The city lights were coming on now, and somewhere out there, bigger threats were waiting. But for the first time since waking up on that bench, Leon felt like he had a fighting chance.

  He cracked a small, tired grin.

  “Let’s go find somewhere to y low, Nyx. And maybe figure out what the hell to do with my headpat powers.”

  Nyx cawed in what might have been agreement.

  They kept moving.

  OOO

  Leon walked for what felt like hours, weaving through Chicago’s evening streets as the city lights flickered on. The adrenaline from the park fight had faded, leaving a hollow ache in its pce.

  Nyx flew overhead in zy loops, her bck silhouette cutting against the deepening sky.

  He ducked into a quiet alley behind a row of closed shops, leaned against a brick wall, and finally let himself breathe. Wallet first. Pin brown leather. Same as always.

  Fifty bucks was all he had, including the money he stole from those muggers. That was it. No credit cards he dared use—they’d probably fg as fraud in this world anyway—and no emergency cash stash.

  Leon thumbed through the bills again, as if they might multiply if he stared hard enough.

  Phone next. He powered it on and the battery was at 68%. No bars and no service either. He could only make emergency calls.

  He tried texting a random number anyway, but nothing happened. The screen mocked him with its useless glow.

  Reality crashed in like a truck. Ironic, given how he’d gotten here.

  He had no ID. No social security number. No birth certificate. No parents to call. Hotels would want a credit card or ID. Shelters would ask questions.

  Jobs? Forget it. He was a ghost. A sixteen-year-old ghost with a crow and a bunch of weird powers, sleeping on the streets of a city where aliens could level buildings for fun.

  Leon’s chest tightened. Anxiety cwed up his throat, hot and sharp.

  Before it reach its peak, Nyx nded on his shoulder with a soft rustle, tilting her head so one eye stared right into his.

  He paused for a moment and ughed. It was short, bitter, and full of mental exhaustion. The sound echoed off the alley walls.

  “Guess we’re homeless, girl.”

  She cawed once, low and reassuring, then nuzzled against his neck. He scratched under her beak without thinking. She leaned into it, eyes half-closed.

  Headpat trait kicked in already. Great. For her, at least.

  But the panic ebbed a little. He wasn’t alone. Not completely.

  The next three days blurred into a rhythm of survival.

  Nyx became his eyes in the sky. She’d take off in widening grid patterns while Leon stayed mobile, never lingering too long in one spot, always moving through the city.

  She’d return with specific caws: one sharp for danger, two quick for food, a rolling trill for shelter. But the st one was almost always a dud.

  Their first good find was on the first night. They had found a dry culvert under a railway bridge along the city’s edge. Concrete walls, out of sight from the road, no standing water. Safe enough as a temporary shelter.

  The second major find was a discarded moving bnket behind a U-Haul rental pce. It was thick, clean enough, and had no stains. Nyx had perched on a fence and trilled until he followed.

  For food, they’d do the same. The test one they found was a sealed pstic bag of bagels left on a delivery van’s dashboard while the driver argued on his phone inside a café. Nyx swooped low and cawed twice. Leon grabbed it quick, heart pounding, and vanished before anyone noticed.

  Loose change came in dribbles. Eleven dolrs and thirty-seven cents total from three park fountains, benches, and an outdoor cafe table someone had forgotten. Pennies mostly, but a couple quarters.

  Leon ate cold bagels under the culvert that first night, curled up with Nyx tucked against his side. The Command Seals on his hand glowed faintly in the dark.

  It was a soft crimson reminder of everything he’d gained, and everything he’d lost.

  I wonder how they’re doing?

  Leon sighed. He loved his family. But ever since his amazing little brother was born, dear mother and father had found their new favorite project.

  It wasn't that they were cruel. It was worse, in his opinion. They were… distracted.

  The moment his brother arrived, Leon had transitioned from the "center of the world" to the "reliable older one who can take care of himself." Every milestone he achieved was met with a distracted “That’s nice, dear,” while they cooed over the toddler's first steps. He’d become a background character in his own house, a ghost haunting the hallways of a life that had moved on without him.

  Not much changed even after they grew up, but he couldn’t bring himself to despise his little brother. His brother couldn’t be bmed for the faults of their parents.

  I doubt those two even noticed my death.

  But his brother would notice. Definitely. He might even be the only one to truly mourn his death.

  I hope you live a good life, Theo.

  Leon reached over and gently patted Nyx’s head, fingers finding the perfect spot between her feathers.

  She went full loaf mode instantly—wings tucked, body melting into his p, eyes half-closed in pure bliss. A low, contented croak rumbled from her throat.

  Leon stared at her, then at his hand.

  “You know,” he muttered, voice soft in the quiet. “You’re seriously cute, you know that? You’re the reason I’ll start to like birds as much as any fluffy animal.”

  The days weren’t just scavenging, however. Knowing what he could encounter in this world, Leon trained however he could.

  Abandoned lots became his gym. He’d find spots with no eyes—pces filled with overgrown chain-link fences and crumbling warehouses—and push his limits.

  Removal was first on his list. Activating it the first time surprised him with how high his base percentage was already, though he attributed that to Tune Up and Kure synergizing.

  He started at a whopping seventy percent, his entire body flushing red as the limiters snapped off. Muscles surged, blood vessels bulged, and power flooded his limbs. He punched rusted metal drums, denting them deep. With Fight Mode on top, he could punch through concrete like it was soft sand. No injuries whatsoever.

  Leon whooped in excitement the first time he tried it. It really wasn’t a fantasy anymore. He had actual powers!

  He pushed to eighty percent the next day, but it wasn’t without dangers. His veins stood out and muscles tore with a sharp burn. He had dropped to his knees, gasping, but the pain faded fast. Faster than it should.

  Kure genetics and Tune Up, he guessed. After the healing kicked in, his body knitted itself back together well enough after a good night’s sleep.

  Martial Foresight sharpened too. He would throw rocks at walls and dodge the ricochets, ghostly outlines flickering in his vision a heartbeat early. Sometimes, he’d even have Nyx try to hit him repeatedly to break the monotony.

  Even Adept Fine Arts got some use. He’d crouch in the dirt with a stick, sketching detailed tactical maps of the areas he and Nyx scouted. Alleys, escape routes, and pces with accessible high ground were the ones he tried to memorize. The lines came out precise, almost professional. Weirdly satisfying, too.

  By the end of the third day, curled in the culvert again with a stomach full of scavenged apples from an overgrown lot, Leon had to admit it.

  He was getting scary good, scary fast.

  Chicago wasn’t quiet either. Nyx’s scouting runs picked up patterns of gangs, shady deals in alleys, and the occasional low-level vilin and superhero in combat.

  He wanted to beat the ones he could take on for the points they would give him.

  But not yet. Plus, he wasn’t bulletproof. Taking on gangs would be asking to get shot. The fight he had in the park had been a stroke of luck. If they had a gun instead, he doubted he could’ve won unscathed or alive.

  No, he wouldn’t take the gangs and criminal syndicates on just yet. Not until he was ready. The GP he had could be spent on tickets, but he wanted a better chance to get something powerful. Right now, he’d rather settle for Gold or Ptinum Tickets.

  Leon stared at the faint glow of his Command Seals, Nyx asleep on his chest.

  “Soon,” he whispered to the dark.

  The city rumbled overhead. Could have been a train passing, or maybe something worse.

  He closed his eyes and waited for morning.